


Insert Edgy Weeb Song Here

by avaivp



Category: supermega
Genre: M/M, Yandere AU, oof it's bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-06-29 10:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15727467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avaivp/pseuds/avaivp
Summary: A shitty Yandere AU I was experimenting with.





	1. Chapter 1

The girl squeaked in pain, the last thing she would ever feel, her bound hands grasped weakly at her neatly sliced her throat and wheezed out her last breath. She slumped, blood leaking from her neck at a dizzyingly fast pace. The dark, thick liquid spread rapidly on the smooth concrete of the basement and down the clean drain in the center of the room. The knife was tossed on the floor and shattered, it was made of ice, the idea taken from an old riddle Matt heard long ago. He smirked, another job well done, now, the hard part. His gloved hands grabbed his neighbor’s hacksaw, and he sawed steadily along the cut that killed it.   
He threw the tightly-knotted garbage bag with its hands, feet, head, and clothes into the corner. He slung what was rest of the body on his protected shoulder, then shoved it into the meat grinder, which he’ll pour in a storm drain on the side of the road tomorrow. Matt poured a bucket of water on the floor to wash away what was left of the blood and took off his stained clothes, gloves, and shoes, which he would put into another garbage bag.  
He then unrolled the carpet from the corner of the room, creating the appearance of wall-to-wall carpet, secured with velcro. He opened the closet under the staircase that leads upstairs, and puts back the paper room divider, separating the meat grinder, used for fishing by his parents, from his “fun space”, the term being his parent’s, as well. From the closet also came a bean bag, a coffee table, a few pillows, and a change of clothes.   
He grabbed the two incriminating garbage bags, switched off the light switch with his elbow and went upstairs to his dad’s truck. Matt loved when his parents had their date night.

 

His hair still damp from the brisk shower of the morning, Matt rides his slightly-rusted bike to school. When greeted with the option to drive, he says that school isn’t very far, and not worth the gas money anyway, with a chuckle to make it all seem natural. His thin legs pumped the pedals in a quick and even pace, and he makes the last swerve into the high school parking lot. He doesn’t bother locking his bike, it's not worth stealing, just slides into the bike rack, and makes his way the cafeteria, serving its mediocre breakfast.   
He slung his lightweight backpack next to him as he plopped into the uncomfortable plastic seat, housing a perfect view that made Matt’s heart flutter. He fell into an easy grin and propped his head into his palm. Across the cafeteria, Ryan Magee was picking tiredly at his food. Matt felt a pang of worry. Why wasn’t he eating? Was he starving himself? He felt growing fire in his chest when Ryan finally picked up the plain cheeseburger (eaten with only ketchup, nothing else) and took a disinterested bite. Matt calmed immediately, and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He was content, admiring every feature that he could see from panes of his glasses. But then, of course, someone had to ruin it, ruin their relationship. They always did, no matter how many of them Matt killed. His eyes fixed onto Ryan’s “friend” Tucker, falling easily into a glare. Ryan probably didn’t even like him, he just felt bad for him. Only Ryan would go so far as to spare that rodent’s feelings. He was so considerate. 

Matt tried to tell himself that the smile that tugged at Ryan’s lips as he glanced at Tucker sitting down in front of him was fake as well, but he’s loved Ryan long enough to know the truth. His heart wrenched, tears threatening to fall. When he fell in love with Ryan, the sudden uproar of emotions scared him, he never felt anything like it in his life. And it hurt, too. Every moment he wasn’t with Ryan, doing something for Ryan, was a moment wasted, and he couldn’t stand it. 

However, as much as he hated Tucker, stealing Ryan from him like someone taking away the Earth’s star, Matt knew Ryan liked him. He made Ryan smile. If Matt failed, if Ryan didn’t feel the same utterly painful things Matt did, Ryan needed a reason to be happy. Matt couldn’t take that away, he could never make Ryan sad. Tears were flowing down his face now, his cheeks hot, Matt slightly surprised by the discovery. He would have to go the bathroom to clean up, if Ryan ever saw him like this, he would kill himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay before we start the chapter, i wanna thank the FUCK outta everyone who said such nice things to me last chapter. this chapters dedicated to you! you guys inspired the shit outta me. hope this isn't shit, love y'all.

The bathroom was trashed, as usual, and there was only one sink drain that wasn’t clogged with toilet paper. Matt gazed into the foggy mirror at the puffy-faced reflection that stared at him. Stared at the nose that was too big, the cheekbones that jutted from his malnourished face, the dark purple eyebags that no sleep could chase away, the red eyes that shined bright in the fluorescent lights. He watched the wretched reflection wipe the drying tears from its face, its lip curled in disgust at its grotesque double. Ryan could never love this creature. Why would he? Electricity ran through his veins, and he drew his fist, not even sure his bony arms could shatter the gaunt creature. The sound of shattering, and the thoughts of Ryan seeing his pitiful body stopped him. He turned the fist to himself and swung into his gut. He felt himself crumble, and ache quickly spread through his body. It wasn’t enough. The electricity crackled in pleasure, it felt so good. He scratched at his collar bones, reveling in the pain as if he could tear the skin away like wrapping paper, revealing anything better that could be inside. There wasn’t, of course, just scum. But he still tore and tore, his skin starting to burn now, releasing macrophages that wet his nails. Tore and tore and tore. 

 

For 14 years, Matt didn’t feel. He never noticed until he was about 5, when he overheard Ann crying into the telephone, pleading to the doctor for some kind of cure, or treatment, just something to make her son love her. She would do anything, she cried. Matt’s small ears perked against the star-patterned pillowcase. Anything?? He imagined ice cream, candy, waffles, toys, and other things 5 year-olds wanted. The next morning, he greeted Ann with a carefully-planned smile, hug, and a loud proclamation of love for his “Mommy”. Ann was so overjoyed that she didn’t think about the scientific improbabilities of a cure. When asked, she would say with a grin,  
“Well, God, of course!” The Watsons have been avid church-goers ever since that day. And when Matt started going to school, he waited until Ann made the offer of “anything” before faking feelings there, as well. His sister always complained about his spoiled childhood, but, unlike Matt, still loved her sibling.  
When Matt decided to finally “make friends”, it was in second grade. He played along with these weird art kids named James and Jaiden, who, despite never truly liking them, he was as grateful as he could be towards them for teaching him how to draw. At least, enough to draw a decent Sonic. They remained friends until sixth grade, when they went to different middle schools. At middle school, he met his new friends at the “video game club” (He had to admit, another thing James and Jaiden helped him love was Pokemon). At first, he was drawn to them because of how good everyone claimed they were. The rumors were proven true when he saw the lanky one (Who he never quite remembered the name of, there was just a faint memory reminding him of those Little Debbie snack-things) complete the entirety of Sonic in 20 minutes. His inseparable partner, Julian, explained that he didn’t talk much, but you could come to our lunch table if you want. At lunch, he met the loudest of the trio. Chris, who Julian and Dee (Matt remembers Julian calling him that a lot, but no one else did ((or was allowed to))) met in Art class apparently, was eccentric, to say the least. Picking fights with students and teachers alike at any chance, it made sense why Julian and Dee only hung out with him after school or at lunch, Matt went to the bathroom with him once and ended up getting sent to the principal's office.  
In seventh grade, Julian asked Matt out on Valentine’s Day. Matt stuttered and apologized, saying he “liked girls” and this whole embarrassing routine that concluded with them hugging and promising to just forget about it. However, it turned into the group’s first fight when Dee found out, getting unexpectedly angry and ignored Julian, Matt, and Chris for a week, focusing on his DS with the music so loud, that when he walked by you could hear them booming out of his earbuds. Julian was heartbroken, saying that his best friend for 5 years never seemed homophobic. Matt found himself comforting Julian in the corner of the bathroom many times in that period. Though it seemed the whole thing ended on that Saturday. Chris ended up getting Dee he like,to spill the story, which he told Matt excitedly in art (Matt switched to that class after Christmas),  
“Apparently Julian went to his house at, like, 4 AM crying and shit, and they made out-”  
“Really?” Matt squeaked excitedly but somewhat nervously- there were a ton of homophobic people in Glendale.  
“ Well, the term he used was ‘made up’ but what I said probably happened, too.” He and Chris laughed it off, but he had to admit, the pair seemed closer than usual since that night. Sometimes Matt caught them holding hands, or exiting the bathroom awfully flustered, but he never mentioned it aside from a joke or two. He wondered if they were still together, maybe even out, but he hasn’t seen them in years. Looking back, Matt was close to loving his friends in middle school, but never close enough. Not until the first day of high school, the day he met Ryan.  
Matt had been captivated by his new interest, manga, when he ran into someone, falling to the floor. The person, who was apparently involved in his phone, was beautiful. He looked a year or two older than him, with short hair and a hint of facial hair. His face was shocked and sorrowful and perfect.  
“Shit, dude! I’m so sorry!” His voice wasn’t something to overlook either. Matt’s heart was ripping itself apart, glasses suddenly cooling his burning face.  
“N-No d-dude, that was totally my fault! I-I wasn’t paying attention-” He was busy trying to get words out of his mouth when a hand wrapped around his forearm, and pulled him off the floor easily. Ryan grinned at him, Matt knew he would never see anything that would be better than his smile, then he glanced down at Matt’s manga, Sailor Moon.  
“Pft, weeb.” and winked at Matt (WINKED.. . at MA T T ) and he thought he would faint.  
“Just kidding, man. Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”  
“Y-Yeah, I’m good.. Thanks for- uh, helping me up…”  
“No problem, dude. You’re a freshman, right?”  
“Y-Yeah…”  
“Same! To be fuckin’ frank, I got held back last year. Maybe we’ll have classes together?”  
“Y-Yeah! Uh- that would be great!”  
“Fuck yeah, dude. I’ll see you around, okay?”  
“T-Totally!”  
And with that, he was gone, and Matt went to the bathroom to vomit. Over the toilet, head swimming with nausea and anxiety, he realized he was in love.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck matt and his dumbass mustache

The voices came first, laughs and screams filling the hallway outside. Matt’s eyes swung open, his vision swirling on the dirty white ceiling. Next came the pain, a low ache in his stomach, then his head, then a sting by his neck. Matt attempted to sit up, ignoring his pounding head, students were bound to be coming in soon-  
The door swung open, and the room was filled with loud voices and laughter. Two seniors glided in, they must’ve been as tall as Matt or more. They didn’t notice Matt at first, he was huddled against the wall, trying to disappear. Of course, that didn’t happen, and one of the tall and intimidating seniors glanced at the wall absentmindedly, before a doubletaking.  
“Shit dude! You scared me!” he laughed, with his dark curly hair framing a wide smile. His companion turned as well, now. He had his long hair in a ponytail and a dusting of hair on his face. He looked at Matt quizzically but chuckled with his friend. Matt’s well-practiced social skills kicked in now, and he shot off the floor and flashed them a friendly smile.  
“Haha, sorry man. I wanted some quiet, so I went here to fuck around on my phone.” he lied easily.  
“It’s cool, don’t worry about it,” The other boy spoke up. The curly-haired one turned to the other suddenly, as if he was reminded of something that needed attending to, Matt forgotten.  
“Hey, did Tucker send the pictures from Saturday?” Matt perked up, knowing well there was only one Tucker in this school. They had a linking to Ryan, this was his chance.  
“Yeah, I’ll forward ‘em to you.”  
Matt listened to their chatter for a while, he didn’t want to seem desperate and was well aware of how easily seniors snapped at younger students. Besides, they seemed friendly enough, perhaps one of them will do his job for him.  
“So, are you skipping class?” The curly-haired boy’s melodic voice sang.  
“Pft, yeah. Math fucking sucks, and my friend brings me the homework anyway.”  
That wasn’t true, in the teacher’s eyes, Matt goes to tutor freshmen during the fourth period, which he’s neglected doing today after insuring Ryan was at lunch. But they didn’t need to know that, instead he continued,  
“My name’s Matt, by the way. You guys hidin’ out too?”  
The boy with the ponytail chuckled,  
“Yeah, Mr. Wecht let us take today off.”  
“We’re his best students,” The other boy snootily exaggerated.  
“I’m Arin, that’s Dan. We’re waiting for our friend to show up, that won’t be a bother, I hope.”  
After a reassurance that it would be perfectly fine, Arin and Dan easily looped him into the conversation, soon enough introducing them to another senior named Vernon.  
Matt smiled, laughed, and talked the time he was supposed to, making notes of the things they liked, their strengths, their weaknesses. Even without killing them, they’d come in handy later, he was sure. Matt periodically checked his shirt collar, riding it high. When the fifth-period bell rang, as they bid their goodbyes, they cheerfully insisted on entering their numbers on Matt’s phone. On his way down the hallway, Matt couldn’t help a smirk from growing on his face. It might take some time, but he was going to become a dear friend. 

Their most trusted friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry what i said at the beginning, i didn't mean it.  
> also are the chapters too short? i'd want to make it longer, but it'd take more time to upload.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried being a but more descriptive in my writing style, but feel free to notify me if it's shit.

It seemed Ryan had gifted Matt with another feeling, unknown and inking throughout his chest. Ryan was going to meet him tomorrow, and Matt wanted to rip his insides out. 

He has learned many things about Arin, Dan, and Vernon in the past month, pandering to their interests fairly easily. He practiced the old skill of drawing with Arin and Ross, a sarcastic but kind guy overall, talked with Dan about music, and although they had conflicting tastes, they ended up making each other mixtapes of their favorite songs. Though music never really interested him, Matt learned what Dan wanted to hear, and said it. Matt also assisted Vernon in setting up his camera equipment and editing software, making little videos where he just fed his friends peppers from his garden. In which he, unfortunately, took part of for an episode. 

Yes, he had succeeded in becoming dear to them, but the thought of being with Ryan was… horrifying. Yes, that was what he felt, fear. He could never control himself around Ryan, even the name on his lips shot a bullet through his heart, turning his body to static. Icarus was never meant to make it to the sun, and Matt’s wax wings will surely melt.   
Around anyone else, everything was so clear, what they wanted, what you need to do to use them before they spoil and waste away. It was a simple assessment, a hand gesture, a phrase, and you can lure them in and holster them like tools. Cold, calculated, like winter pavement, everything was sharp, clear, clean-cut. But with Ryan, he was in a dream and could do anything, even kill. Even love. 

Dan’s music echoed in the cold room from the small radio sat upon the clean dresser-top. Unseeing eyes stared into the black, pale hands spread on a red comforter that was always too scratchy twitched with the soft beat. Dull humor recalled dead bodies broken and lost, buried deep in another's grave, pressed against their own with haste and left to rot. The wax-winged corpse hasn’t killed in a while and had no longing to do so again unless a situation deemed necessary. But every once in while the thought of dismembering Tucker or that freshman that was awfully slow in withdrawing from what should have most certainly been a brief hug of greeting named Melissa brought a chill smile to Matt’s face. He closed blind eyes and let the sweet thought of drowning Melissa in a bucket of her own blood guide him to sleep. 

 

The bowling alley was dim, signs advertising food or shoes for rent glaring among the soft shadows. Laughing and the clattering of pins served as a faint and comforting, acting as white-noise for racing thoughts. The faded pattern in the worn carpet showed stars almost gone, and the smell of beer and dust lingered in the air.   
Orange glow filtered through the windows, making Matt’s skin seem alive instead of the stretched and starved alabaster that reeked of malnutrition. He hated looking at his thin wrists and long fingers, fragile and porcelain. Ryan would scoff at the pathetic doll sat neatly upon the dark leather couch, cringing every time the steps leading to the shallow alley creak, Ryan would shatter him with a single touch. 

He found himself twitching to the beat of one of Dan’s songs and forced a smile only one side of his mouth would participate, leaving a self-assured smirk. A string of pops emitted from his neck as he faced Ross, Vernon, and Dan, joining their easy conversation. The “rest” were on their way, the pathetic thought repeated. Why were they with Ryan? What were they doing with him, without Matt? What were they doing with him at all? Red-hot coals burned in his chest, sparks threatening to fly if he unclamped his china mouth, painted and smiling. If he cracked now, no one would survive the fire, and he stiffened as if to solidify his skin. As if he could turn himself human.

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE MOTHERFUCKING SHOUTOUT TO CYNDAGOS ON TUMBLR FOR AMAZING ART OF THIS <3 <3https://ewakatendevi.tumblr.com/post/177918260904/shoutouts-to-this-fic-ripped-my-asshole-clean-off


End file.
